


Geraskier x "The Cross" by Scorpions

by Fluxx



Series: The SS 200, 2020 [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Heartbreak, Inspired by Music, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, Moving On, Music, Post 1x06, Tumblr Prompt, scorpions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23355382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluxx/pseuds/Fluxx
Summary: I was young and so naiveYou were God and I believedYou made me kneelYou made me feelLike it was all my faultBut now I know it wasn’t mine at all-The Crossby ScorpionsPrompt response for The SS 200, 2020Submit a prompt for The Tune Cruise: The SS 200!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The SS 200, 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1679812
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Geraskier x "The Cross" by Scorpions

A sparse scattering of applause raised up from the small tavern, trampling the final, dying note of his lute. Even sparser coins tumbled from the few hands that drifted near his upturned cap. Nonetheless, he bowed with a wide smile and extravagant flourish of his arm. “Thank you, thank you, good townspeople! Your kindness knows no bounds!”

His words went ignored, as they usually did. He was starting to suspect the crowds were paying to shut him up, but that was just as well he supposed - whatever got food on his table and ale in his mug. He traded a few coins to the keep for as much, then settled himself into a small table sequestered away from the rest of the patrons, content to enjoy his meal in solitude. Well, as much as one _could_ enjoy lukewarm porridge and watery ale, anyhow.

“I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood.”

Jaskier’s hands tightened upon his bowl and mug. His chest grew taut, and his lips pursed. A permeating cold set itself upon his heart - he knew long before the man clad head-to-toe in black leather dropped his sheath of two swords upon the opposing bench and slid into place across the table. He took a deep, steadying breath, steeling himself for what he knew would be a trying encounter. His eyes flickered up, glaring at the man as he lowly muttered, “I’m here to drink _alone_.”

Geralt scoffed, placing his mug upon the table and idly drawing his fingers around its lip. “Yeah,” he chuckled, a distance to his voice, eyes fixed upon the mug but gazing upon something far further away. “You remember too, then?”

“Of course I remember,” he all but spat. Stubborn and, more to the point, hungry, Jaskier dropped his attentions back to his gruel. Suddenly, he didn’t much mind the temperature. “You can move along, now.”

“Come on, Jask,” Geralt implored. A hand reached for Jaskier’s - the bard reflexively jerked back, pulling his bowl closer to him. Geralt sighed, but let it be, taking a cautionary glance about the tavern before folding his arms and leaning in close. “Please. I just want to talk.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to scoff, just before tipping back a slosh of his shitty ale. “ _You_? ‘Talk’? Oh, I’m certain this will be miserable.”

“Don’t you miss it, though?”

Jaskier cringed, head turning aside and eyes shutting tight. The timbre of Geralt’s voice was as alluring as it’d ever been, the aura of adventure just as intoxicating. Beneath the table, his feet itched to follow, and the gods only knew how much his heart would’ve let them. But it’d taken a long time for him to build himself back up to where he was now, and even still it wasn’t yet where he’d once been.

He wouldn’t let himself ruin that progress.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he whispered bitterly, voice threatening to crack. He pushed himself back in his seat and forced his eyes open. If this was meant to be some kind of divine test, then he’d face it head-on. If he couldn’t do that, he couldn’t very well consider himself recovered, now could he? “Because you _don’t_ know, do you? How I clung to you? How I yearned to be by your side? To be your…” He faltered. His hand curled into a fist upon the table. He forced himself through the words. “Your _travelling companion_.”

Geralt frowned, sitting up straight again in the booth. “Don’t be unreasonable,” he defended. “I had a lot going on.”

“Yeah, I _know_ you did,” Jaskier muttered, maintaining his ground. “That’s not the point.” He sighed, eyes falling to his half-eaten porridge. A part of him had known the conversation would go this way, but that apparently hadn’t kept him from hoping. His demeanor softened, betraying the longing he still felt for days long since passed. “Look, I would love nothing more than to venture with you again. Gods know it. But I see now how one-sided everything was… How I was the only one trying to keep it going.”

His stomach still rumbled, but he wasn’t hungry. He down the rest of his ale, then snatched his hat and lute off the bench and slid out from the booth. “If I’m wrong about that, then I hope our paths cross again. I really do.” He set his hat upon his head, then allowed himself one last gaze upon his white-haired dreams. “But if they do, it’ll take a lot more than a simple apology for you to prove you understand. I won’t let myself fall for you again, Geralt… Not without knowing you’ll catch me.”

“Jaskier—”

“Good bye, Geralt.”

He forced his eyes away, and his feet to march. Hot moisture brewed at the corners of his eyes, and his heart raced in a stricken panic. What if that was his chance? What if he never saw Geralt again?

_Then that’ll have to be_ , he somberly answered himself, pushing through the tavern’s door and stepping out into the day. The sun shone brightly down upon him, basking him in its warmth. At last, he opened his eyes again to behold its beauty, and took a deep breath of the fresh air around him.

His days with Geralt were some of his most precious. He genuinely hoped there’d be more. If there were, he’d be just as important to Geralt as Geralt had been to him - this was the commitment he’d made to himself, the commitment he knew was integral to remaining a whole and complete person. And now, having finally lain it out aloud, he was finally starting to believe in it.

_You’ll catch me one day, Geralt,_ he thought to himself as he set out into the world. _I know you will._

_I just hope you’ll know it, too._


End file.
